


Nightmare Before Christmas

by knlalla



Series: Demons and Diners [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 13:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12960153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knlalla/pseuds/knlalla
Summary: Twas the night before Christmas and all through the diner, not a creature was stirring...Dan's helping Phil get set up for the annual Christmas-ish party by decorating the mansion, but something about the way Phil's been treating him lately has started to grate on his nerves.Tw for descriptions of a panic attack





	Nightmare Before Christmas

“Phil? No, no, Phil what are you doing?” I laugh at him - he’s about four feet above the top of my head, trying to hang an incredibly ornate wreath in the grand ballroom. “No, it’s too low! The other one is much higher!” I step back a few more paces, trying to determine how level the other decorations are in comparison.

 

“You just said it was too high!” Phil protests, wings beating gently to keep him afloat. I’m distracted for a moment by the bright red pattern painted across the leathery membrane before I realize he’s lowering himself to the ground. “There, that’s good, right?”

 

I return my attention to the wreaths, which are actually pretty even now.

 

“Okay, yeah, those look fine,” I smile at him, and he disappears through the nearby portal - I’m told it leads to some huge storage warehouse (of course there’s one of those in this giant labyrinth). Phil emerges a moment later with what looks to be an enormous version of a Christmas tree base, and I furrow my brows in confusion.

 

Before their honeymoon, PJ had explained to me that this celebration was something like the human Christmas - a little less gift-giving, a little more focused on the ‘traditional’ aspects: family, festivities, and well-wishing. The newlyweds are due back at the end of the week, only two days away now, just before the party Phil’s throwing. I snort at the thought - for a guy who claimed to hate parties not but two months ago, he’s spent most of my time here searching for any excuse to gather everyone together and celebrate; I think we’ve had four events in the span of the last month, easily.

 

“Okay, we need the tree before we can finish decorating. I’ll go get that, maybe tomorrow?” Phil’s thinking aloud as he sets the heavy metal contraption in the center of the room - a space has been cleared, a very large one, and I try to imagine a tree that would actually fill it. _Jesus, that’d be enormous_. But if the rest of the decorations are any clue, I shouldn’t be surprised - the wreaths alone are larger than I am tall.

 

“Do you need my help with that as well?” I offer, since he’s been dragging me around for the past three days to decorate every corner of the mansion and diner. I cross over to him as he folds his wings, but they dematerialize the moment before I wrap arms around his waist. Though I’ve already seen him in full demon mode, he seems pretty unwilling to display that side of him around me unless it’s necessary.

 

His hands find mine across his stomach, and he twists in my loose grip until we’re face to face. Though I’m intent on watching his bright blue eyes, I can’t help but notice when a twinge of doubt crosses his features; I don’t comment. A smile quickly replaces it, followed by an annoyingly patronizing kiss. _Okay, maybe I’m just assuming it’s patronizing._

 

“No, this is something I’ll probably need to do on my own, but thanks for offering,” he gives me a quick squeeze then shuts down the portal behind him. A gentle tug of his arm at my back prompts me into movement, and we’re both heading toward the stairwell.

 

“Are you sure? I don’t have to _do_ anything, if it’s not safe or whatever,” for all the help he’s been asking of me, he keeps me far and away from the actual task at hand - like giving him directions for how to hang decorations while he hauls them into place. I can _feel_ the way he’s babying me, as if I’m going to snap in two just from helping lift a heavy object or something.

 

And it’s _infuriating_. I get that I’m human, but Chris has been just fine here for hundreds of years, why am I any different?

 

“No, this will require a bit of a trip,” he smiles over his shoulder before descending the stairs in front of me, and I suppress a huff of annoyance. _I’m not going to break, alright? You have no idea what I’ve been through, I’m tougher than you’re giving me credit for_.

 

I want to say all those words, and maybe some more, but I just follow in frustrated silence.

 

“I’ve got some bookkeeping to take care of,” Phil begins as he stops in front of my room - though we’ve sort of been sharing his room, and he’s expanded it a bit to fit us both more comfortably, he insists I keep my own space just in case.

 

“That’s fine, I work in-” I pause beside him, checking my phone. “ _Shit_ , ten minutes, okay I’ll see you later!” I press a quick kiss to his cheek, and he chuckles at me before continuing down the corridor.

 

I quickly change into my uniform and take off down the hall. Despite working a fairly busy shift, my mind keeps flowing back to Phil and the way he’s been treating me. The moment I made the connection between his protectiveness and my being human, things keep popping up - the time he insisted I stay in my room while he investigated a potential attack on the diner (turned out to just be a drunk patron), when he refused to let me help Louise with a particularly challenging dish (there were live... _creatures_ involved), not to mention the fact that he still never shows off his demon form in my presence.

 

 _Phil’s treating me like some breakable china doll_. I set the bused plates down in the kitchen with a loud clang, rattling the metal table.

 

“Honey, _what_ has got you so wound up?” Louise calls from across the kitchen, and I spin in a huff.

 

“It’s _Phil_ ,” I groan, and she throws her head back with a laugh. Bright white flashes in a way I wasn’t expecting, and I catch a glimpse of the long fangs hiding inside her mouth.

 

“Of _course_ it is, nothing else would get you so hot and bothered,” she responds when she’s finished laughing. She waves her sous chef over - James, the cat-eyed man I had met several weeks ago - and he takes her place at the stovetop. Freed for a minute, she walks over; only once she’s stood in front of me, arms crossed against her chest and an eyebrow cocked, does she speak again.

 

“Alright, what’s going on? He being secretive? Done something mean? Stole your cereal?” She gasps at me, then leans in conspiratorially. “ _Did he do something in bed you didn’t fancy_?” I was about to explain things until she said that last bit, now I’m just blushing furiously.

 

“No, no, nothing like that,” I mumble, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. “I mean, he’s...no, he’s fine in bed, I just…” I bury my hands in my face, mostly to shut myself up. _Why on earth would I say that? Get it together, Dan, jesus._

 

“Well, out with it then, hon, I ain’t got all day!” She almost shouts it, and I’m wishing I had some magical ability to curl into a ball and disappear. Or a portal, to escape. Anything to keep the curious eyes of the kitchen staff from staring at us.

 

“I, uh…” I pause, about to tell her - _but would she understand? She’s not human, either…_ I go for it anyway. “He’s treating me like I’m fragile, I think. Just because I’m human!” I try to sound indignant, but it comes across as whiny, and I curl my lip in annoyance.

 

“Well, you _are_ human, and you have to remember how little time we all spend among humanity. Can’t really blame him for not knowing what all you can and can’t handle,” she reasons, fixing a hard gaze on me. I sigh, rolling my eyes. Of _course_ she’s going to be all logical about it.

 

“Fine, fine, but how am I supposed to show him I’m not going to break the moment something slightly bad happens? I can’t very well just throw myself into some dangerous situation and hope I survive,” I say it aloud, but I’m suddenly wondering if I can’t do _exactly_ that. _If I show him I can handle something he’s deemed unsafe for humans, maybe he’ll reconsider?_

 

“Oh no, I know that look,” Louise pouts at me, narrowing her eyes. “Whatever it is, do _not_ expect me to help! I want no part in putting you straight into danger, love,” she spins on a heel, returning to her station and sending James back to his work.

 

I spend the rest of my shift rolling that idea over in my head, formulating a plan.

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

Though I went to bed alone, immediately after my shift - and fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow - I wake in Phil’s arms. I burrow into his chest, dreading actually getting up and hoping he’ll just stay asleep a bit longer. He’s not one to spend too long in bed, no matter how much I play the needy boyfriend; there’s always work to be done, and he’s _always_ the one who has to do it.

 

“Morning, sleepy-head,” Phil’s gruff sleep-affected voice is amazingly seductive, though I know he doesn’t mean it that way. I let my thoughts wander, tracing a hand across his stomach. “None of that, now, I’ve got a lot to get done today,” he’s smiling down at me, eyes flashing red as he peeks into my head, and he catches my hand at the waistband of his sweatpants. And laces his fingers through mine. And pulls us both up to the safer territory of his chest.

 

“Mmmm come on, you can stay in bed another five minutes,” I grumble, nuzzling into his neck and sucking at it softly.

 

“Come on, yourself, babe,” he jokes, freeing my hand and lifting my chin so our lips are almost touching. “Besides,” his voice - if possible - has taken on an even huskier tone. “ _You know it’d take a bit longer than that._ ” A shiver shoots up my spine, and I try to close the gap between us; of course, he pulls away and presses a kiss to my nose instead.

 

Which is exactly what I needed, because I’m suddenly reminded of the masterful plan I came up with last night.

 

“You’re right!” I rush to say, and he looks at me with a cocked brow - and _blue_ eyes, so I can safely continue the lie. “I mean,” I calm my tone a bit, “you still have to get the tree, and I told Louise I’d help her with a few things to prepare for the feast tomorrow,” I blink a few times, hoping I’ve hidden my real motives convincingly. And hoping he won’t actually go fact-checking with Louise. He furrows his brows, now, looking concerned as his eyes drift off to a spot on the wall behind me. _Shit, I hope he’s not trying to figure out what exactly I’m helping with...given I literally have_ no _clue what’s on the menu._

 

“Okay,” he nods after a minute of deliberation, and I realize he must’ve been actually considering whether he’d _allow_ me to help her. _Still treating me like a fragile little human_ , I push down the groan of frustration and force my face into an overly-cheery smile instead.

 

“Go on, I’ll be heading off to my room for a bit first,” I gesture at him to shower first, needing him out of the way and distracted so I can put my plan into action.

 

He plants another kiss on my cheek, then disappears into the bathroom. The moment I hear the water turn on, I stop by my room and grab some necessities before taking the fastest shower of my life and quickly dressing. The hallway is, inconveniently, very long and straight - nothing to hide behind. I open my door a crack and peek down toward Phil’s room. _I hope he hasn’t left yet…_

 

But he follows my expectations perfectly, not emerging for another five minutes. I try not to stare at his ass _too_ much as he makes his way down the corridor, then sneak out behind him and close my door softly. He doesn’t seem to have heard me, so I follow cautiously. Once out the door, he heads right - _toward the diner? Or the kitchen...he’d better not be checking with Louise…_ I rush out after him, breathing a sigh of relief when I notice the slight swing of the door leading to the diner.

 

As I pass the kitchen, though, I give it a quick once-over - _good, no sign of him in here_. The diner door swings open toward me, and I back away, ready to hide. Fortunately, it’s just one of the waitresses, and her entrance has allowed me a convenient way to slip in without drawing more attention to myself.

 

The door swings wide, outward, and I slip through and behind the counter. I pretend to focus very intently on a spot in front of me, hoping Phil’s not in a position to notice my presence. I wait for a few moments, under the guise of reorganizing some napkin holders and condiments, before I feel confident enough to check the room around me.

 

It’s bustling, right in the middle of the breakfast shift, and it takes me a solid three scans of the room to conclude that Phil isn’t here.

 

“Hey,” I nudge Jemma, who’s stood behind the counter and _actually_ working. “Have you seen Phil this morning?” I hope my tone is casual enough, not too suspicious.

 

“Hey Dan, morning to you too!” She chirps. _Far too chipper, all the time, I don’t know how she does it_ . I’m even having a bit of trouble looking at her too closely, with the way the lights are reflecting off her scales. “Yep, he was here just a bit ago, did you need something?” She’s fixed concerned eyes on me, and I want to scream. _Why does everyone think I’m helpless?_

 

“No,” I grind out, teeth gritted. Then inhale slowly. _She’s being polite, there’s no reason to be mean to her_ . Not to mention she’s still my superior. And, if what Chris told me is true, she could kill me pretty quickly. I realize I’m staring at her mouth, which I’ve been told is hiding rows of shark-like teeth under a glamour. “No, no,” I hope I sound a bit calmer, kinder. “Uh, but which way did he go?” I definitely didn’t pass him in the hall, and if he went through a portal, I’m royally screwed. _Shit, that didn’t even occur to me._

 

“Out the front door, of course!” She grins, and I try not to wince. It isn’t fair to her, that I’m actually a little nervous - especially given there’s no sign of her teeth. She’s been nothing but immensely kind to me, so I return the smile and rush off with a quick ‘thanks’ thrown over my shoulder.

 

\--------------------------------

 

It takes me all of three steps outside the front door to realize what I’m walking into. _The aether_. I haven’t seen it since the moment I tried to escape, right when I first arrived - the windows of the diner don’t give much view of the outside, aside from blackness. It could easily be midnight in a dark city, and that’s exactly how I’ve seen it up til now.

 

But now...now the blackness is overwhelming, and...well, it isn’t quite _black_. It’s dark, sure, but I can see swirling tendrils and fog and mysterious shapes, just far enough out of my view that I can’t get a good grasp on what they might be.

 

 _But that...that I’d recognize anywhere_ . Far off to my left, I spot a blob of black shot through with threads of red and orange and gold. _Phil_ . I take another step, then turn back toward the diner. It’s a beacon of light in the terrifying darkness, and I’m _sure_ I can find my way back if I get lost. So I take more confident steps toward Phil, allowing his wings to guide me.

 

\----------------------------

 

I’ve been walking for a few minutes now, but the wings don’t seem to be getting any closer. If anything, the fog has only made them blurrier. Or perhaps I’ve been staring too hard. I can’t tell, I can barely see anything now - just the faintest hint of red a distance away. I think I’m going the right way, keeping the red in front of me, but I stop for a moment to try to piece together my surroundings.

 

Far off to my right, nothing but darkness. All around me, I think I can make out the spindly branches and thick trunks of some trees - though none look like the pines I imagined Phil would be searching for. After a brief check that the glowing wings haven’t disappeared, I check behind me.

 

My heart stops in my chest. _The diner...it’s gone..._ At first, I can’t breathe. Then, all at once, I’m gasping and I can’t seem to exhale properly and my eyes are watering and I’m desperately searching for some kind of indication, just the faintest glow, that the diner is still back the way I came.

 

I stumble forward - rather, backward, toward where I thought the diner had been - but my feet get caught on some undergrowth, and I fall to the ground. When I manage to lift my head, which has begun spinning, my hazy vision searches for anything even remotely familiar. I turn back, clinging to the dirt beneath me as I collapse back on my ass in the middle of this hell-forest, hoping against all hope that the red glow of Phil’s wings will appear out of the darkness and rescue me.

 

 _Jesus christ, I am a fucking fragile human, look at me, I’m stuck in this mess and I can’t find my way back and I have no idea what to do and nobody knows I’m out here and I’m going to die and..._ I can’t stop the running narration in my head from pushing me further and further into a state of panic, and my dirt-covered hands lift from the ground to wrap around my knees. I can’t breathe properly, only short gasps, as I huddle into myself.

 

Within moments, I swear I can hear creaking around me - I don’t dare look up, but I _know_ the trees - with their spiked and spindly branches - are reaching down for me, waiting to rip me apart. _I deserve it, for thinking I could go out here by myself and survive_ . My breathing slows, though the pounding in my ears - _must be my heartbeat_ \- doesn’t; I squeeze my eyes shut, then collapse onto my side, still curled into a ball. The earth is dry but cool against my cheek, and I can feel the puffs of dust that hit my face each time a tear finds its way from the corner of my eye to the ground below.

 

I think I’m sobbing, now, but I can’t hear anything through the thunderous sound of my heart in my ears; it’s all-encompassing, and I try to focus on it instead of the coarse grip of the branches inevitably creaking their way down to grab me. _Or worse, some...creature could be out here, waiting for a tasty little snack…_

 

I bite my lip, hoping the pain will distract me, but now all I can hear is the heavy breathing of whatever terrifying being is surely approaching me now.

 

When something grabs my arm, I scream.

 

But the hand is soft, not clawed in a way that would have cut deep into my flesh, nor is it the scraping rough bark of a sentient tree trying to pull me limb from limb.

 

I blink my eyes open, frightened when red swims in my vision. _Red, jesus, am I dead already?_

 

But a gentle voice reaches through the pounding of my eardrums, and the tears manage to clear away from my eyes, and suddenly _Phil_ is coming into focus; his hand is on my arm, and I can tell he’s speaking, but I shake my head and try to take a breath.

 

When I exhale, it’s another sob, and I squeeze my eyes shut and lean into him. His voice is clearer, now inside my head; he mutters soothing words and it relaxes me just a little. I barely notice when his arms wrap around me, lifting me easily.

 

It takes me longer than I’d like to admit - _to be fair, though, I just had some kind of panic attack_ \- to realize that Phil’s method of transportation is _flight_ . My sobs have stopped, enough that they’ve just become small hiccups, and I open an eye experimentally. I’m being held like a baby  - _so much for that attempt to show I’m not a fragile human_ \- and we’re soaring high above the forested darkness below us.

 

I open my other eye, somewhere between exhilarated and terrified, and watch the growing light of the diner in the distance. I focus on it, as if it’s a lighthouse drawing us safely into harbor; I swear I don’t blink until we’ve settled on the ground at the front door. Phil doesn’t let me down, though, pushing the door open with an extended wing and pulling us both inside.

 

I shut my eyes once we’re inside, partly against the sudden brightness and partly against the shocked stares directed our way.

 

“Dan! Are you-” Louise bursts out into the diner, and I peek an eye open sheepishly. “ _Daniel James Howell, what on earth have you done?_ ” Though her wrath is terrifying, and I’ll indubitably have a lot of explaining to do later, I’m far more nervous for the talk that Phil seems intent on us having _right now_.

 

He marches right past her, heading toward the living quarters, and doesn’t stop until he’s sat me down on his bed. I keep my gaze on the floor between us, arms wrapping around myself anxiously.

 

“Are you okay?” Phil’s voice is tight, like he’s holding back his anger. I don’t trust my own words, so I whisper a confirmation into my head. I _certainly_ can’t meet his gaze. Which is why I’m so shocked when he tackles me back to the bed in a hug.

 

“Oh my god, _oh my god_ I was so worried! When I heard you, out there, I thought you were…” he pauses, and I finally allow myself to look in his eyes - they’re bright red, like fire, but slowly threading through with rivulets of blue as he pulls back from my mind.

 

“Phil, I…” I start, though my voice is hoarse. _Probably all the crying and screaming._ My face flushes - not only have I failed completely in my attempt to show Phil how tough I am, I’ve probably set myself back so far that he’ll never let me out of his sight again. _Not that I’d complain, but...._ I can already see him sealing me into a protective bubble just so I won’t accidentally scrape a knee or hit my elbow on something.

 

“I was _so_ worried,” his eyes are glassy, now, like _he’s_ about to start crying, and I take a deep breath to fight off my own tears. _I put myself in danger, and scared him so much...he thought I might be dead…_

 

“I’m so sorry,” I start, but he doesn’t let me say anything else - his lips are on mine in a desperate kiss, and I kiss back just as forcefully. _I could’ve died, I could’ve died out there if he hadn’t found me._ When I feel wetness on my cheek, it takes me a full ten seconds to realize it isn’t my own tears, though those have started to flow as well.

 

“ _I thought I lost you_ ,” Phil’s whispering against my lips, mostly nonsense between kisses, but those words send a pang through me, a tear in my heart. _I’m such an idiot._

 

\------------------------------

 

PJ and Chris have just returned, which I find out _not_ because anyone tells me, but because of a very obnoxious knocking on Phil’s door at some ungodly hour of the morning.

 

I groan when Phil leaves my side, pawing at his chest, but he just gives me a quick kiss and swings the door open. To a _very_ angry-looking Chris, and a somewhat less angry-looking PJ. _Although, for PJ, even that much expression is a bit frightening_ . I sit bolt upright in the bed, worried something horrible has happened. Or _is_ happening.

 

Phil must have the same idea.

 

“What’s going on?” He asks, immediately shifting into business mode. PJ looks at me through the gap in the doorway, black eyes engulfing his usual bright green, and I grimace. _Peej, look, I was just..._ I try to explain into my head, but he’s pulled out and focused on Phil before I get the chance. _I guess he knows, anyway, if he saw what happened…_

 

Chris, however, is not nearly as stoic as PJ. He actually pushes past Phil and into the room, standing in front of me with crossed arms.

 

“ _How dare you go out there, and scare the shit out of all of us?_ ” He’s shouting, and I drop my eyes. _Here’s the verbal lashing I was expecting from Phil..._ Chris chastises me for another full minute before PJ steps past Phil and wraps an arm around Chris’ shoulder. His movement makes me glance up, at which point I notice the angry tears in Chris’ eyes. _He was that worried as well?_

 

A small nod from PJ confirms it, and I feel a fresh wave of shame wash through me.

 

“I’m so sorry, Chris, I’m a complete twat for doing that to all of you,” I drop my head into my hands, then startle when I feel a soft squeeze at my shoulder. Before I can look back up, PJ is guiding Chris from the room, and Phil closes the door gently behind them. “I really didn’t-” I start, but Phil cuts me off.

 

“He’s right,” I look over to the intimidating presence at the doorway, still a little surprised Chris had managed to push past him. “That was idiotic of you, to put yourself in danger like that. Hell, I told you on the _first day_ that the aether was dangerous,” he pauses, running a hand through his hair distractedly.

 

“I know, and I’m sorry, I just-” Phil cuts me off again, and I cross my arms in a huff.

 

“Yes, yes, I know, you were trying to prove a point. I understand I know nothing about your past…” Phil trails off, but this time it’s full of something unsaid.

 

“And?” I prompt. “I can’t read your mind, you know,” I know it’s a bit of a low blow, given that he actively tries not to read my mind _too_ often, but I also know it’ll work.

 

“ _And_ you won’t talk about it!” I’m shocked by the words, enough that I don’t move when he sits down beside me. “I promised I wouldn’t look through your memories from before, but _god_ I feel like I barely know anything about you!” He’s incredibly flustered, but I can’t focus on his concerns.

 

Instead, I burst out laughing. Which earns me a very confused look from Phil - a look that only prompts another bout of laughter, and I flop back onto the bed behind me. He continues staring, though I can barely see it through my squinted eyes. By the time I manage to get myself under control and sit up, my abs are burning. Phil waits for me to speak, and I have to take a few deep breaths before I can be sure I won’t lose it again.

 

“You... _you_ know nothing about _my_ past?” I get it out, though I feel the giggles bubbling up at the back of my throat. “This, coming from the immortal being who’s been alive for, how long?” I ask, partly for effect and partly out of curiosity. _No matter how old, he’s at least been around for over half a century - he’s robbing the goddamn cradle_. The thought starts another fit of giggles, ones I can’t seem to stop.

 

Phil stares at me for a moment before his mouth starts opening and closing like a fish out of water. Which causes me to collapse back onto the bed, full-on laughter wracking my body again. Before I can question the change in pressure, I feel Phil’s arm next to mine, and he’s laughing as well. It takes us a good three minutes to get ourselves under control, at least enough to speak.

 

“That,” Phil grins, still laying back on the bed but turned to face me now, “is a very good point,” I smile at him, trying to process the rollercoaster of emotions from the past twenty-four hours. Hell, I think I’ve experienced every single emotion that _exists_ since I woke up in Phil’s arms yesterday.

 

“How about,” he suggests, and I blink at him, “we play a game,” I squint, then, intrigued but slightly on edge. “We can exchange stories from our past. I’ll tell you something about myself, then you tell me something about you,” _There are some parts of my past...some I’m not sure I can talk about._

 

“It’s okay, I have some like that, too,” Phil must’ve been reading my mind, and I catch a hint of red as he turns his gaze away. “But we can start small, and work our way up to those things,” he rolls so he’s staring right into my eyes, and I do the same.

 

“Okay,” I say it softly, as if agreeing might open some kind of floodgate to every horrible, terrible piece of my past. “But,” I amend quickly, “please, if we do get into some of... _that_ stuff, promise you won’t read my mind unless I say you can?” I don’t want him sifting through my memories unless I really can’t manage to tell them out loud. _He’ll have to tell me his difficult memories out loud, it only seems fair. And I don’t want him to find anything I’m not quite ready to talk about_.

 

“Agreed,” his smile puts the sun to shame, and I lean forward to press our lips together.

 

\--------------------------

 

Phil leads me from the table out onto the dance floor - the floor that’s in _exactly_ the spot the tree would’ve been, had Phil actually found one instead of having to drag my ass back to the diner. A twinge of guilt flickers through me, but I quickly bury it.

 

The feast was unreal, absolutely delicious - Louise had truly outdone herself, and I made sure to tell her so. As we reach the center of the floor, I realize nobody else has left their tables, despite the soft music now playing in the background.

 

“Phil, why are we the only ones dancing?” I mumble to him as we sway. He’s grinning, though, and before I can figure out why, his wings have unfurled and he’s lifting us both into the air. I cling to his neck tightly, suddenly a worried about falling.

 

“I would never let you fall, you don’t have to worry,” his eyes are red shot through with blue, and it’s incredible - I almost forget we’re hovering in the air, until my sights snag on something green at the edge of the ballroom. _Trees_.

 

They’re materializing in every corner of the room, dark green pines that rival every majestic Christmas tree farm I’ve ever seen. They aren’t decorated, though, which I chalk up to the differences between our Christmas and whatever they celebrate down here. _They’re beautiful, I know Phil can conjure things, but this is..._

 

“Amazing,” I breathe the word out, meeting Phil’s gaze again, and he smiles back at me.

 

“I could say the same of you,” he presses a chaste kiss to my lips, though he pulls me flush against him and it sends my thoughts spinning.

 

 _Just wait til later_ , he whispers into my head. My cheeks heat up, turning red to match his eyes, and he lets out a soft chuckle at my reaction.

 

I duck into his chest, leaning against his shoulder. We’re spinning slowly, and I notice the people on the dance floor below us. At first, I worry we’re making such a spectacle of ourselves, floating in the air like this, but we turn just enough that I see Ollie pulling Wendell into the air gracefully - though Wendell looks a bit flustered at being dragged away from coordinating the event for a dance.

 

In minutes, others have joined us in the air - those with abilities that allow it - and the tables are almost empty as the others dance below us. I can hear Phil’s heart beating against my ear, and I sigh contentedly.

 

 _This is something I could get used to_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies! If you'd like, feel free to give it a cheeky [reblog on tumblr](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/post/170305617892/demons-and-diners-masterlist)


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